Set Phasers to Fun, Ensign!
by Aislin30a
Summary: A collection of mostly humorous little fics written for Ship Wars. "Blue Shirts are BAMFs" was one of these fics but was so long I posted it separately. These involve most of the crew but are usually told from Kirk or McCoy's POV. Overall rating is T.
1. Hangover

This is a collection of short fics that I've done on the fly in the comments of posts on the LJ community ST_Respect, which is putting on Ship Wars. (A very friendly competition between teams representing different pairings in Star Trek Fandom. ) The main events are the fanfiction and fanart posted by teams to fill prompts in competition. But the _real_ fun happens in the Battle Posts (which is actually more of an EPIC LOVE-FEST than any kind of battle) where we all unwind with macros, sparkle text and comment fics. :D

These are some of the fics I've written in comments. The ones that only need a brief explanation to be understood and enjoyed by those not involved in Ship Wars. **These fics are mostly humor with more than a little crack.** Blue Shirts are BAMFs is one of these fics (you might have read it) but was made it's own separate story because it was so long.

You'll notice that tribbles are mentioned quite often. This is because we have a Team Tribble, who exist purely to SQUEE and smother everyone else with affection. We love them dearly and feed them often. :)

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**Rating:** T for things implied

**Characters:** Kirk.... and _others_

**Summary:** Hangovers, they mess with your head.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Star Trek or anything associated with it. I'm doing this for fun, not profit.

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Hangover

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Consciousness hits Jim like a bottle of Romulan Ale to the head.

He takes a moment to go through a mental inventory, makes sure all arms and legs are accounted for while his head pounds to the beat of his heart.

Two legs – check. They're spread wide, one hanging off the edge of his bed.

Two arms – check. One is resting against his abs and the other, which he has no feeling in, is curled up under his chin.

Feet and hands attached?

Probably.

He wiggles his toes and fingers, just in case. _'Capt'n, we've got a wee problem,'_ Jim's periphery nerves signal. One hand isn't moving. The one on his face.

Huh.

Jim tries again and gets nothing. More force is exerted, causing his other hand and his feet to bounce around.

_'This result is unsatisfactory,'_ Jim's inner Spock voice says.

_'We're giving 'er all we've got, Capt'n!,'_ Jim's nerves call back.

Jim splits the difference and bites one of his stubbornly stationary fingers. **Hard.**

"Ow, fuck!" His hand says. Then it smacks him upside the head.

"Uhh-Bwah?" Jim asks, bewildered.

"Dammit, Jim! If you wanted me off your arm, all you had to do was _ask_." That's Bones' voice. Jim would know it anywhere. Still, he's confused by its presence in his quarters.

"Whaaa?" He inquires.

"Why are we talking?" Comes from between Jim's legs. His privates seem to have obtained the use of Sulu's vocal chords. _Weird._ "It's too early for this crap."

"Jim bit me." The sound of shifting covers follows this and then an arm hits Jim in the face. Again. It seems to be his own this time. Yep, tingly needle pain. Definitely his.

"Well, bite him back." His desk responds, pithily.

"Such an action would be highly inappropriate, Yeoman." Says Jim's floor.

"Shhhhhhhh!" Whispers the door to the bathroom. "Inside voices, please."

"You ate _three_ bars of chocolate last night," The couch chirps, completely disregarding the door's wishes. "I remember, it was just before I pegged you. No big words for you!"

Jim is worried. The furniture is talking and his balls have started to snore. He's pretty sure he didn't drink anything _that_ unusual last night. And the ship's in orbit around Zaran II, a perfectly respectable Federation planet, so strange Nebulae and space anomalies are unlikely to be causing problems.

"I cannae move my legs," Another section of the floor interjects. "Should I be worried?"

"You can't move them because _I'm_ on top of them, so stop wiggling." The floor answers itself, sounding like Uhura this time.

_'Multiple personalities,'_ Jim thinks, _'I'm too young for my floor to need therapy.'_

"You're all useless," Bones' voice says, floating a couple of feet above Jim's head and to the left. "Where's Chekov? Anyone seen the kid?"

"He's under the coffee table." The couch answers affectionately. "He's so cute, all curled up and-"

Jim hears his console ping, announcing an incoming communication. Here's his chance to contact the outside world, to call for help. Jim tries to turn toward the sound and peel his eyes open but they're gummy and his limbs are uncooperative.

_'Oh, fuck! Beam me outta here, Scotty!'_ Jim tries to yell. What comes out is: "Uhhhk, hmmm yeaaah, Shcooufflle muuuh..."

"_Jim! I didn't think you'd be up this-_" Pike cuts himself off. "_Um... those are some lovely legs, there. Is this a bad time?_"

"Shhhhhhh!" The bathroom door hisses. The desk groans and something flops down onto the floor.

"_Dr. McCoy..._" Pike says, pausing significantly. "_You appear to be naked. And covered in... um?_"

"_Let me see that!_" Number One calls from the background, sounding more than a little interested.

"It's mayonnaise." Bones grumbles. "_Don't_. Ask."

"_So... I'll be expecting a cleverly worded report sometime in the next few days, then?_"

"It was Scotty's moonshine." Bones answers. "... and tribbles."

"_Tribbles._"

"It's complicated."

"_It would have to be._"

"It's the way they _purr_ at you and they sort of vibrate-"

"_I'll call back later._"

"_Don't disconnect! I want to-_"

The line goes dead, which is when Jim notices that his hair is purring.

_Huh._

_

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End

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	2. Kissing Orgy

**Rating:** T for language and _smooches_

**Characters:** McCoy, Kirk, Spock, Sulu, Chekov, Chapel, Cupcake (Mmmmm, frosting), Scotty, Uhura

**Summary:** An alien delegation asks the crew to demonstrate their trustworthiness in an unusual way.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Star Trek or anything associated with it. I'm doing this for fun, not profit.

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Kissing Orgy

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"They want us to _what?_" Leonard hisses.

"Kiss." Uhura replies. "They're a democratic society, in the extreme, and they don't really like that our away team claims to speak for the _entire_ Federation. A, uh... group kiss would go a long way to convincing them that we can, as a group and as representatives of a larger society, communicate openly and honestly."

"What, you mean _all_ of us?" Sulu interjects, glancing around the huddle they've formed and looking anxious. "We _all_ have to kiss everyone else?"

"It's a deal breaker." Uhura sighs. "They were pretty adamant about it."

"I _like_ this planet!" Jim grins. He blinks as they all give him a _look_. "What? This is easy, guys! A few smooches and we're down to business. It could be worse, we could have been forced to fight to the death or something."

"I concur," Spock's voice is steady and even, totally unaffected by the knowledge that seven other men and women will soon be swapping spit with his girlfriend. "I propose that we form a line. The first individual will walk its length, exchanging a kiss with each member in turn. After they complete the task they will stand aside allowing the next person in line to-"

"Damn, Spock. Efficiency takes all the fun out of it!" Jim laughs. He breaks the circle and grabs Leonard by the back of the neck, pulling him close. "Buckle up, Bones."

"_Jim-_" Is all Leonard manages to get out before his mouth is covered, Jim's lips moving against his insistently. His bottom lip is pulled between the other man's teeth, nipped at affectionately before a moist tongue slips out to sooth it.

"That was _hot._" Chapel says, voice filled with voyeuristic glee, from Leonard's left.

"Come 'er, you." He grumbles, cupping her cheek and pressing a chaste, closed mouth, kiss to her lips. She pulls away with a laugh, blushing faintly, before _leaping_ at Uhura. They exchange a noisy kiss, grinning and laughing at their own antics. Jim wolf whistles.

Leonard rolls his eyes and turns to the next person, Lieutenant Mathews. They eye each other for a moment.

"This is embarrassing." Mathews mutters, shifting from one foot to the other.

"I've seen you naked with your guts hanging out, how is this worse than that?" Leonard steps forward, presses their mouths together. His face scrunches at the feel of stubble and the taste of-

"Frosting?" He asks.

"One of the gals in weapons had a birthday." Mathews shrugs. "She brought cupcakes."

"Oh, right."

Scotty kisses him next, enthusiastic and wet, before he turns to Chekov who he spins into a dip. Sulu chuckles and kisses them both when they stand back up, blushing furiously but looking pleased when the curly haired navigator gives him an extra kiss on the cheek. He spots Leonard watching and walks over, pulling Chekov along with him.

"I think Kirk tried to suck my tongue right out of my head." He says to break the ice.

"That doesn't surprise me in the slightest." Leonard mutters. They meet each other half way, noses bumping. It's awkward and they exchange equally vehement looks of _'thank God that's over with'_ when they pull away.

Chekov is bouncing on the balls of his feet expectantly, smiling up at him with youthful enthusiasm. The kid is fourteen years his junior and Leonard would really like to make it through the day without feeling like a perverted old man, so he kisses the kid on the corner of his mouth.

"You call that kissing?" Chekov says, shaking his head in mock disgust. "I show you real kiss! _Russian_ kiss!"

The next second Leonard's got his arms full of Russian jailbait and a hot, insistent, incredibly _skilled_ tongue pushing past his teeth. Chekov grins at him when they come up for air, pats him on the cheek and bounds off to find his next victim.

"Um..." Leonard starts.

Sulu pats him on the shoulder. "Consider yourself lucky. The last time I treated Pavel like a kid he drank me under the table and stuffed my bathroom to the ceiling with tribbles."

Leonard shakes his head to clear it as Sulu walks away. Someone clears their throat from behind him and he turns to find Spock looking intently at him.

"Let's see that talented tongue, Uhura!" Jim calls somewhere to their right.

"Keep dreaming, Captain." Uhura teases. Spock's lips quirk just slightly.

"Well?" Leonard says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Given our past encounters it is reasonable to conclude that you will find an exchange of an affectionate gesture between us disquieting and even unwelcome." Spock says, hands folded behind his back and head tilted just so. "I wish to convey verbally that, while I find your arguments during our debates illogical, I am not adverse to your company. Therefor this ritual exchange should not cause you any undue stress-"

"Do you have to over analyze _everything_, you pointy eared bastard?" Leonard growls, grabbing Spock's head with both hands and smashing their mouths together. Emotions flow over his mind like a wave – curiosity, affability, _amusement_.

Leonard pulls back, gasping.

"Insults used as endearments... _fascinating_." Spock's lips twitch upwards.

"You... you!" Leonard gapes. He feels like an idiot, because _of course_ – Vulcan's are touch telepaths and Spock _would_ feel the need to explain himself before anything even happened.

"You should close your mouth, Leonard. Before someone puts their tongue in it." Uhura smiles up at him, kisses his bottom lip, soft and warm. He smiles at her and quirks an eyebrow.

"Do you ever get used to that?" He asks.

"Nope." She says, eyes twinkling. "And I hope I never do."

"Captain, I do not believe inserting your tongue into my oral cavity was necessary to completing this activity."

"You _liked_ it, admit it!"

The Rimarian delegation looks pleased and one throws his arms wide, all four of them, and intones something in the Rimar language.

"What did he say?" Jim looks at Uhura expectantly.

"They're pleased with our demonstration and are willing to negotiate." She responds.

"Excellent!"

"Do ya think they'd give us a wee break before that?" Scotty asks, rubbing one hand over his stomach. "All this snogging has me hankering for a sandwich."

~*~

When they arrive back on the Enterprise, Gaila refuses to let them off the transporter pad without getting a kiss from every last one of them.

"Soooo not fair, you guys." She pouts, blocking the exit. "Having a kissing orgy without me!"

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For those wondering about the tribbles in the bathroom incident

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"Hikaru?" Pavel calls coyly as his friend's door slides open with a hiss. "I have come to see if you are sorry."

"Hmmphmmm!" The distressed call comes from the far end of the room, past Hikaru's bed and near the bathroom. Pavel grins.

He walks over, hands behind his back and out of sight, to look down at his friend. Hikaru's head and shoulders barely stick out from the pile of furry spheres spilling out from the door.

"Oh, poor Hikaru!" Pavel coos, examining his friend's predicament. "You have had an accident. While going to have a cold shower to clear your head, I am thinking?"

"You did this, didn't you?" Hikaru accuses after he spits a small, mousy colored tribble out of his mouth. It bounces off the pile and lands at Pavel's feet, still purring. "I know you're mad at me for treating you like a kid, but I think this is a bit much."

"You think I did this?" Pavel asks, hand to his heart. "You are _so_ cruel, Hikaru!"

"Who else would booby trap my bathroom?" Hikaru shifts uncomfortably, glancing down at himself then up into Pavel's eyes, imploring. "Come on, Pavel... I'm being molested by tribbles, here!"

"That is so sad for you." He says sweetly, sitting down next to his friend's head. "Whatever will you do?"

"No, really." Hikaru is squirming now. "I think one of them just _gave birth_ in my boxers."

"What will you do for me if I help you?"

"Pavel-"

"You pinch my cheeks and ruffle my curls. This is _wengeance_. You deserve it."

"Okay, okay!" Hiraku pleads as Pavel makes to get up and leave. "I'll do anything! Just dig me out. They're starting to vibrate, it's like getting humped by a puppy. Just _no_."

Pavel takes the comm out from behind his back and flips it open.

"He is willing, Mr. Scott. Bring the lube!"

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End :D

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	3. Gaila's Birthday Gift

**Rating:** T for language and activities

**Characters:** McCoy, Kirk, Spock, Sulu, Chekov, Chapel, Rand, Uhura, Gaila, Scotty and a Tribble

In one voting post at Ship Wars, one member of Team Tribble said they had a _five-way_ tie for their favorite story. My own Captain commented that such language was dangerous among slash fans as it could cause whip-lash from hopeful double takes. Orgy anyone?

**Summary:** Jim has some difficulty giving Gaila her birthday present.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Star Trek or anything associated with it. I'm doing this for fun, not profit.

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Gaila's Birthday Gift

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"This isn't working." Jim flops back on the bed, admitting defeat. He shifts around, something thin and bony is jabbing him in the side.

"That is my arm, Keptain." Chekov admonishes, voice muffed by the neck he's got his face buried in. Bones', Jim thinks.

"Oh. My. God." Uhura laughs from her seat on top of Jim's desk. "James T. Kirk gives up on an orgy? Call the presses!"

Jim throws her a one fingered salute.

"That's not fair, Jimmy!" Gaila huffs. She's straddling his desk chair and pouting at him. "You promised me anything I wanted for my birthday. You _promised_."

"I didn't think you'd ask for a gay daisy chain!"

"Wow. That was stupid of you." Rand says dryly. She pops a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth. Chapel makes grabby hands at her and the bowl is passed over Uhura's head.

"I believe our difficulty completing this task is the result of inadequate space." Spock speaks up from between Sulu's legs. "While the Captain's bed lessens strain on our joints, it has also resulted in an unacceptable rate of accidental descent."

"Why is '_the bed is comfy but we keep falling off'_ so damn hard for you to say?" Bones grumbles, pointing an accusatory finger in the Vulcan's direction. He drops his arm over Jim's chest, hand landing against his chin. One finger is temptingly close to Jim's mouth, so he licks it. "Dammit, Jim."

"We could move to the floor." Sulu suggests. There's general moaning and groaning as their man-pile shifts it that direction. Jim still manages to hear his door hiss open over Bones' bitching.

"Scotty!" Gaila shrieks in delight.

"Sorry I'm late, lassy." The engineer says cheerfully, as always, giving each of the girls a peck on the cheek. "But I brought sandwiches to make up for it!"

Jim looks up from trying to wiggle his way into the tangle of limbs and stares.

"Scotty?"

"Aye, Capt'n?"

"Why is there a tribble on your shoulder?" He asks suspiciously.

"Ach, you didn't expect me to leave her behind, did ya?" Scotty says, dismayed. "She'd get lonely!"

The tribble purrs.

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Later that evening....

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"And tonight's winner is..." Gaila pauses for dramatic effect. "Monty!"

"Thank you, lass!" Scotty says, waving from under the pile of limbs that, when untangled and assembled in the proper order, make up Sulu and Chekov.

"What?" Jim complains. He pushes himself into a seated position. Bones grumbles irritably at being displaced and curls up next to Spock instead. "Did you _see_ that thing I did with my tongue?"

"Yep." Rand says, looking over her score card.

"Well?"

"I can do it better."

"You can _not!_" Jim protests.

"She can." Bones replies, inserting his cold feet under Jim's ass.

"How would you know?" He asks, suspiciously.

"I believe Leonard has witnessed that particular technique with enough frequency to make an adequate comparison."

"Whose side are you guys on, anyway?" Jim demands, he turns back to Rand without waiting for an answer. "I want _proof_."

"Fine!" Rand snaps.

"Fine?" Chapel bleats.

Scotty looks up over the helm team as the girls hit the floor. "Oh, that's better than a ribbon!" He says, grinning. "Are there any sandwiches left?"

From beneath the bed, the tribble purrs.

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End

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	4. Wish You Were Here

**Rating:** T for language and themes

**Characters:** Pike, Number One, Kirk

There's a picture of Bruce Greenwood (the guy who plays Pike), from a movie maybe(?), where he's in a mixing room, leaning back in a chair, strumming a guitar with his bare feet propped up on the desk. IS **HOT**. Someone posted it on a thread in Ship Wars so I wrote them comment fic. :)

**Summary:** Kirk and Number One watch Pike play an antique electric guitar and drool.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Star Trek or anything associated with it. I'm doing this for fun, not profit.

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Wish You Were Here

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It's like a buffet.

Not the crappy, all you can eat for 12 credits kind, but the sort bedecked with ice sculptures and colorful yet refined garnishes. The ones that come gratis because you've already spent a fortune on silk sheets and skyline views. Except in this case, the offering is less to do with culinary decadence and more in tune with a fundamental desire of the human condition.

"He's doing this on purpose, isn't he? He's setting us up." Jim whispers throatily, fingers twitching.

"Nope." Number One leans in close to speak in a low voice, her breath hot on his ear. "This is just how he unwinds."

Jim takes in the many mouth watering sights currently on display. The too long hair, left uncut after a long anticipated break from Academy bureaucracy. The line of Chris' neck where it meets the curve of his collar bone, the fine scattering of hair made visible by the open collar. Long fingers working the frets, jean clad legs and bare feet casually propped up on the desk. Eyes closed, head tipped back, a lazy smile curving upward as music fills the room.

"So what's your trick?" Jim asks.

"Trick?"

"To keep from hitting that. Hitting it _hard_."

"It's a slow burn, baby." Number One grins, tugging a lock of Jim's hair affectionately. They listen for a few moments, taking it all in, watching deft fingers dance over the strings.

"What's he playing anyway?" Jim asks, never able to keep still when a desired course of action is laid out in front of him.

"Some twentieth century rock, I think." Number One answers. Her hand has slipped down Jim's back, running her fingers along his spine because she likes to tease.

"Whoever guesses the song," Chris says without opening his eyes or stilling his fingers, voice low and amused. "gets to dictate our... _activities_ for the evening."

There's a moment of intense contemplation before they both dive headlong for their respective PADDs. Chris keeps playing, chuckling at the racket going on behind him.

"Ha! As good as done!" Jim crows, fingers flying across his screen. "I'll just modify a linguistic recognition script and patch it into the subspace net. How do you feel about nurse outfits, Commander?" Jim laughs as he starts fiddling with his subroutine. "Or, hey! _Cadet reds_. I bet red is a good color on you."

"It occurs to me," Number One replies calmly, sitting comfortably with her legs crossed. "That your search would go _much_ faster with a smaller data base to comb through. Say, Chris' private files? I figured out the password _ages_ ago. I wonder how long it'll take you to hack in?" She taps her stylus against her lips and tilts her head, considering. "Speaking of medical kinks, that doctor friend of your's is quite attractive. I think he'd look good all sweaty and wanton between Chris and I. You'll tell me what you think, right? Because you'll be _watching_ from the sidelines."

Chris laughs as Jim sputters indignantly. "Now that's not fair! I'll give you a hint, Jim, to even the score... _Pink_."

"Oh, snap!" Jim says, his confidence renewed. "I've heard some of her stuff!"

A jarring cord echoes through the room followed by the slap of bare feet on wood flooring. Chris turns his chair around slowly and _stares_.

"What?" Jim asks.

"Number One?" Chris says, pinning Jim in place with his gaze. "You win by default. Tie the heathen to a chair, I'll comm McCoy."

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End :D

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P.S. The title is a hint.

If the ending doesn't make sense to you, type "Wish You Were Here" into a search engine with another key-word like: 'lyrics' or something, and see what comes up. ;)


	5. Gummy Bear Porn

**Rating:** T for imagery?

**Characters:** Spock, McCoy, Uhura, Chapel, Kirk.

So. At Ship Wars each prompt has an accompanying picture to fit the prompt. For our NC-17 prompt the picture was two Gummy Bears in a... _compromising_ position. This senario was, HONEST TO GOD, the first thing I thought of. Yeah, there just might be something wrong with me...

**Summary: **Spock is high. Jim, being _Jim_, takes advantage of this.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Star Trek or anything associated with it. I'm doing this for fun, not profit.

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Gummy Bear Porn

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Leonard should be pleased. He should be giddy. He should be giving Jim a firm kiss on the mouth and shaking Cupcake by the hand because, for _once_ during this God-dammed mission, the Away-team has come back without anything bat-shit-insane for him to deal with. No deaths, no gaping wounds or hemorrhaging blood or unknown diseases. No psychotic doubles or telepathic possessions or other alien voodoo. Just a few bumps and bruises. Simple and easy and oh so welcome.

Leonard should be pleased.

"Fascinating. The gelatinous Ursinae are now engaged in a ritual demonstration of their union for the approval of their community. The challenger's decapitated body has been left untended."

"I've never seen a stoned Vulcan before." Chapel remarks, watching Spock's behavior closely. She's not alone in this. The entire Med-bay has come to a screeching halt in light of the Commander's altered mental state.

"And we're _sure_ this has nothing to do with the away-mission?" Leonard asks again.

"I'm positive it's something he ate in the mess." Uhura answers, sounding a little exasperated. "He was _fine_ until we left and then he started composing love sonnets to the ship."

"Well, at least he and Scotty will have something to talk about come poker night."

"That's not very helpful, Chapel."

"I was just saying what everyone was thinking." His nurse says, grinning.

Leonard rolls his eyes. "Alright, people. Show's over! And whoever's messing with him needs to fess up and stop biting the heads off innocent candy critters."

"As I was distracted by your entrance, doctor, I can only speculate on the fate of his cranium." Spock turns away from the little scene on the side table to address them. His pupils are dilated and his ears are twitching in an unnatural way. "Though, having inspecting the marks left on the individual, it is not too presumptuous to infer that it may have been ritually consumed by the victor."

A golden head rises up from behind the table like a freaky, alien sunrise while Spock's back is turned. Blue eyes twinkle mischievously as deft hands make adjustments to the Gummy Bear pornography.

"Dammit, Jim!" Leonard snaps, moving around the bio-bed to glare at the man. Jim darts back under the table to avoid his First Officer's notice.

"The Captain's presence here is highly unlikely, doctor." Spock comments, following Leonard's movement. "As he is currently engaged in negotiations between a Miss. Peep and a Madam Contrary concerning reparations for damages done by the former's herd of woolly ruminaters to the latter's garden of oddities-"

Spock stops as his glaze turns to the table. He leans down so that his eyes, wide and unblinking, are on a level with the candy and stares. His voice comes out as a breathy murmur. "An unexpected development. It seems the gestation period of this particular species is almost infinitesimal. In the five point three seconds while my attention was directed elsewhere they have managed to conceive and give birth to a new member of the community. A most joyous event."

He continues to stare as though waiting for the next development. Spock's fingers lift from where they've been gripping the table, they stay suspended in the air for a moment before dropping down like dominoes, nails tapping on the hard surface.

Jim snickers from beneath the table.

"Alright, you've had your fun." Leonard growls, dragging Jim out into the open. When he sees the look on Spock's face Jim doubles over with repressed laughter, the bag of candy bears clutched to his chest. He straightens up a few moments later, tears streaming down his face, and takes a deep breath.

"Okay, I'm good."

"The negotiations went well, Captain?"

"Yeah, Spock. They were great." Jim manages to get out without loosing it again.

"The Muffin Man will be pleased."

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Leonard snaps, dragging Jim back up by his collar. "Pull yourself together and fess up!"

"Spock-" Jim has to stuff his fist in his mouth for a few moments to regain his composure before he continues. "Spock, they're just candy. They aren't alive, I was moving them around when you weren't looking. See? I've got a whole bag of them!"

"Trafficking in sentient beings is strictly prohibited under Federation law, Captain." Spock admonishes. He tries to raise one eyebrow in a disapproving manner but gets confused halfway through and just ends up looking constipated. "Therefor, I must insist that you release your hostages immediately."

"They're not hostages, Spock! They're _candy_." He picks the newly conceived gummy bear 'baby' up between his fingers and moves it to his mouth. "You _eat_ them, see?"

"NOT MR. WIGGLES!"

Spock launches himself off the bed, sending the table tumbling as he plows into their very shocked Captain.

"Remain calm, Mr. Wiggles." Spock instructs, straddling Jim's chest and probing the recesses of his mouth with pale fingers. "I will extract you from this orifice and the doctor will then repair any injury you may have obtained."

"Aackk! 'Ones, ewp ee!" Jim chokes, waving his arms wildly.

Leonard watches this for a moment. He thinks about how Jim manages to cause him all kinds of grief without meaning to, about how _today_ was supposed to be a _good day_ with the Away-team home and everyone in one piece. He thinks about justice for the overworked masses.

"I wash my hands of this insanity. Chapel, we're breaking out the booze!"

"Yes, doctor!"

"_'Oooooooones!_"

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End

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	6. Together, We Wait

**Rating:** K+

**Characters:** McCoy, Uhura.

**Pairings: **Kirk/McCoy, Spock/Uhura

**Summary:** Bones and Nyota find it difficult to sleep when Jim and Spock are gone. Done for a Bonus Round prompt at Ship Wars - _Welcome Back, never leave again. _

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Star Trek or anything associated with it. I'm doing this for fun, not profit.

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Together, We Wait

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The longer missions are the hardest.

Leonard doesn't sleep well when Jim's away. The bed is too big and too cold when he's in it alone. His dreams are exhausting cycles of Med-bay swimming in blood and endless, cold corridors with windows looking out into the dark of space, glass cracking as he tries to catch up to the echo of footsteps running ahead.

It's worse than normal this time. The away team is operating undercover in comm silence, trying to sniff out spies and contacts for the Klingons on Vegna Prime. No one can say how long they'll be gone, won't even throw out an estimate. Even Sulu can't be persuaded to talk about it.

It's been over a week and the corridors are empty tonight, the silence so consuming he can't even hear himself think. The cracks on the windows spell out his greatest fears: death, abandonment, left alone without even knowing why. He runs and runs until the walls disappear and he's falling through space, battered by a freezing, burning wind.

He comes awake with a start.

"Shhh, relax. It's just me." Nyota murmurs, sliding into bed beside him and replacing the blankets.

"You alright, darlin'?" He pushing himself up on one arm so he can see her face. Her eyes will tell him if something's wrong even if she won't say it.

"I'm no better than you are." She looks Leonard straight in the eye, daring him to argue. There's nothing he can say to that, he knows the stress has been showing. But he huffs and rolls his eyes, just to keep up appearances.

"We'll call this a medical intervention then." He mutters, tucking her head under his chin. "For sleep deprivation."

Nyota hums in amusement and relaxes against his side. Leonard tries to settle back down into sleep but he really can't keep his mouth shut to save his life.

"The sweater, really?"

"Shut up. You're wearing Jim's gym shirt."

"At least _mine_ doesn't itch."

"At least mine doesn't _stink_."

"Touché."

The corridor comes back eventually, but it's warm now and he isn't alone.

*

A few days later Leonard is standing on a hill. It's alien and the colors are unsettling but he's not too worried. He's watching the tree line, waiting for a group of travelers to arrive at the meadow. He's not sure where they're from or who they are but he knows someone important is coming with them.

Everything is bathed in sunlight, it's sometime around noon even though the sky is black and filled with stars, pulling at him. The ground is so small and the blackness is so big but he's not afraid. He's holding a warm hand in his own and he can feel the silky ribbons wrapped around their wrists in intricate knots, weighting them down like an anchor.

They're blue and gold.

They wait and wait, just staring at the tree line until the hill starts to move. The peak is rising and the ground is moving and their hands come apart, the ribbons flying wildly as they fall away.

Leonard comes awake to the sensation of someone gently, but unrelentingly, prying his fingers up from where he's holding on to Nyota by Spock's sweater.

"Let go, Bones." Jim breaths into Leonard's ear, sounding amused. "We're back. _I'm_ back."

His grip loosens and Nyota's warmth leaves the bed. She sighs contentedly somewhere above him and off to the side. Quiet footsteps head away, toward the door.

"See you on Alpha."

"Indeed."

The door hisses open and then shut again as another body climbs into bed next to him. Hard instead of soft, insistent instead of pliant and very, very welcome.

"It's a good thing our rooms are right next to each other," Jim chuckles. "Because Spock was starting to freak."

"It's his own fault. And yours." Leonard mutters against Jim's neck. "Don't stay away so long again."

"I can't promise anything." Jim says, stroking down Leonard's back. "But hey, at least now you can have a slumber party."

Leonard bites him, just hard enough to sting, then kisses the mark. They settle after that. He's almost drifted off when Jim speaks again.

"My old gym shirt? _Really?_"

"Shut. Up."

* * *

*

End

*


End file.
